


The Game That Went Wrong

by Kittycat01



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blood and Gore, Dark, Gore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Morbid, Original Character(s), Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:30:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9391073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittycat01/pseuds/Kittycat01
Summary: Toby is a troubled little boy. I try to look after him as much as I can but he shows up crying more frequently. That's  why I decide to play a game with him. He never manages to disappoint me. Until he does.





	

Toby came to me crying. This had become a regular occurrence over the past few months, and had happened every single day this past week. He always came to me crying from the pain of a new injury. It was beginning to worry me, especially since I knew that I couldn't help him. 

 When we had first met, he was so sweet, and he had such a caring family. His parents used to bake us cookies and they would let us stay up late. I would tell Toby stories until he fell into a deep peaceful sleep, and rested until the morning. Then he would wake and give me a sleepy lopsided grin. Everything had been great then; as close to perfect as it could have been.

 But then everything changed.

 I don't know when exactly, but Toby's parents believed that he shouldn't keep me around. Maybe because our games ended with the occasional broken plate, or because of the time we were playing tag when Toby's grandmother's vase ended up smashed, leaving shards embedded in the rich carpet. Or perhaps it was because he simply didn't trust them anymore. Perhaps they were jealous that he spent more time with me than he did with them, and he got upset if he was ever told to stop talking to me. 

 The occasional tug at his hair he had received as a punishment from his parents eventually became a push or a shove, making him fall and hurt himself. I have to admit, they were smart; they could blame his injuries on him falling whilst playing. After all, he was a young boy. 

 But Toby and I were smarter.

 I patched up his injuries. He didn't seem to be as talkative tonight, possibly due to the argument that I overheard him having with his parents earlier. Or maybe because the result of the argument, what appeared to have been caused by a violent shove, was a wound that completely covered his back, and was steadily staining his white shirt a deep shade of crimson. 

 "I will do everything in my power to help you Toby," I told him while disinfecting his grazes, "what do you need me to do?"

 He slowly turned to face me, his face held in a grimace from the sting of the disinfectant. His once bright eyes were now empty, showing no signs of emotion whatsoever. "I want to play doctors and nurses tonight," he smiled at me. How could I possibly resist that sweet smile?

 Later that night me and Toby were sat on his bedroom floor. We were patiently waiting until the sounds coming from downstairs stopped. As time passed, it ocured to me that the medicine I had slipped his parents earlier was taking a rather long time to take effect. Toby was calmly watching the moon rise into its place high in the dark sky. 

 Then the noises downstairs stopped.

 "Let's go." He ordered.

 I smirked and followed him down the narrow corridor and down the stairs. We ended up in the kitchen, which was where Toby's parents were asleep on the floor.

 "Let's play doctors and nurses then," I smiled at Toby, "who do you want to be?"

 "The doctor."

 I helped him into the white label coat, and chuckled when he tripped on the hem of it. 

 "You know," I observed, "you look just like your father in that."

 If looks could kill, I thought to myself, I would be just like his parents right now. Toby cautiously approached his father's unconscious body.

 "If I remember correctly," he began as he rummaged around his father's breifcase, "this," he proudly held up the medical equipment his father used for surgeries, "will help us."

 It had been a while since we had last played doctors and nurses. Our last patient, if you will, the bully from the primary school had died from organ failure. There was nothing unusual about the death, no questions were asked, and it was overall accepted as a natural occurance. We had left no evidence; I had made sure of that. The job had been easy.

 Judging by how mutilated his dad was right now, tonight would be harder.

 The pristine kitchen floor was littered with a trail of small intestine and pools of drying blood. I couldn't help but laugh at the sight, and the thought of how much the blood would stain the tiles; Toby's mother hated mess and was constantly cleaning. Toby was already beginning his work on her, pulling various things out to add to the mess on the floor.

 It was so much fun to watch, he never failed to please. Which is why it was so disappointing that he ruined it. The simple error he had made ruined the whole thing. His hands were bare.

 He didn't seem very shocked when I pushed him to the floor, his face as vacant of expression as it had been earlier. He seemed to be expecting the push, and fell right beteen his parents. He seemed even less surprised when I pushed the needle deep into his neck. He realised his mistake and the price he had to pay for it.

 After all, he'd made friends with the monster under his bed.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work so all comments are greatly appreciated.


End file.
